


From the Ashes We Are Born

by TheLovelySinner



Category: V for Vendetta (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, V for Vendetta Quotes, kinda oneshots?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:54:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24778711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLovelySinner/pseuds/TheLovelySinner
Summary: Moments you and V share together throughout the Shadow Gallery.(V for Vendetta quotes are written throughout the story, obviously).
Relationships: V (V for Vendetta)/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

Your blood ran cold and your head was spinning. Your right hand clamped tightly around your nose and mouth as you laid there. Your left arm curled your legs up so they wouldn’t poke out underneath the desk. The cops were hot on your trail so you dashed into an office and slid underneath it, hoping they wouldn’t find you. You slid some boxes in front of you from being seen in case they were smart enough to crouch down and look. The T.V. across from you, perched on the wall, flickered. The red background caught your attention. There, a man who you never thought you’d see again, was V. The guy who saved you from the fingermen the night before. His words spoke with strength as he preached about a revolution and how corrupt High Chancellor Sutler was. “ _ Remember, remember, the 5th of November.” _ V’s voice was smooth and soft as he spoke. Yet, there was still strength and compassion as he spoke of the injustice your country had caused. His mask smiled back at you on the screen. You wondered if he too was smiling beneath it. “Where is she,” a voice called out. You snapped out of your thoughts and watched the door. It was muffled, but they were right outside in the hall. You screwed your eyes shut, willing your trembling body to still. “Don’t just stand there, jackass,” one of them said, “Check the room.” The sound of the door rattled for a few seconds before it flung open. You bit your lip as you laid there, praying for some god to take pity on you. The silence was deafening as you hid, worrying about your fate.  _ Would they arrest you? Kill you? _ You praised the skies once the door closed with a  _ click _ , and footsteps faded. You cautiously slunk up from where you hid and squatted, turning your head around the desk to make sure no one was there.  _ Coast is clear. _ You slung your satchel over your shoulder and pulled out your mace, just in case. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears and you stood there frozen. You felt sick. You shivered; the sun dress you decided to wear did no favours for you in the cold room. “Get yourself together,” you whispered. Hand slowly pulling the door open you peered out into the empty halls of your workplace. How the cops even found you chilled you to the core. Sadly, you were not surprised they were able to track you down. “All because of that damn masked guy.” 

  
You peeked your head around the corners of the halls as you trekked through the building.  _ Just a little more and we’ll be free.  _ The halls were empty, ghost like. The camera's red light stared menacingly at you as you creeped around. Your ears caught the sound of a struggle as you got closer to the exit. Bullets were ricocheting and groans from wounded people were the only signs of danger you had.  _ Fuck, this can’t be good. _ You clutched onto your mace tightly;it was the only thing you had to protect yourself. You rounded another corner and that’s when you saw him: V. Corpses of officers laid beneath him and blood splattered on the white floors. His back was turned to you, doing god knows what as he hovered over his victim. A figure moving caught your eye. One of the cops that almost caught you was creeping up on him. V’s name got caught up in your throat.  _ ‘Stupid girl, not only would you get shot but he would too.’  _ You quickened your pace, slightly crouched as you made your way to the black haired cop. His back was turned to you, thankfully. Your tights blanketed your footsteps, willing you to move like a ghost. The combat boots you owned were tucked in your satchel. They would alarm anyone near you with the heavy soles thudding on the white tile of the station. The cop’s pistol was raised and the cock of it made V turn. V’s head tilted;if you weren’t trying to be stealthy you would have laughed. The mask made it look cute somehow. V raised his arms up and sunk to his knees. “It seems you have bested me.” There was amusement hidden in his tone. Why, you didn’t know, considering  the fact a gun was being pointed at his head.  _ Joking even to the very end. _ “It’s over,” the cop sneered, raising his gun. You were an arms length behind the officer now. Before you could stop yourself, you tapped his shoulder. The cop turned to you, confusion in his eyes, “Anderson?-” Your finger clutched down on the mace, the chemicals spurting out into his eyes. “Shit,” he cursed. His hands flung to his eyes as if to provide comfort. He raised the butt of his gun and it struck your temple. You cried out, crumpling to the ground. Pain seared through your head. Your temple felt hot and a stinging sensation followed. You raised your fingers to your head and patted it. “Mademoiselle, “ V (as far as you could tell) called out. You brought your fingers to your eyes:  _ blood. _ You cursed yourself for touching your wound. It stung like hell. Vision going spotty, you held on. The officer fell beneath V’s hands, the faint sound of his gun clattering to the ground resounding in your ears. “V?” Your head stung as you tried to focus on the smiling masked man in front of you. V knelt beside you, morphing into each other and separating again. Two smiling Vs peered down at you. “Holy shit there’s two of you.” His head cocked to the side in confusion. V cursed himself as he saw blood trail down the side of your head. “Hush now, mademoiselle, exerting yourself in this state is dangerous.” You studied the masked man as your eyes started to close. You couldn’t focus anymore; everything was staticky and muddled. The white outline of a smiling guy fawkes mask hung in your head as you became enveloped in an inky, cold abyss. 


	2. Great Way to Start a Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wake up in a strange place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> V in a pink apron is what I want to wake up to and see every morning. Also, this fic goes along with the plot of V for Vendetta but also doesn't. Some changes r made bc i love Evey but cmon girl some of the stuff you decide to do is stupid.

The cool and crisp sheets welcomed you in its arms once you woke up. They smelt of pine trees and lemon with a tinge of muskiness to it. A dull ache coursed through your head, causing you to curse. The light did no favours for your head either. You groaned; there was a bedside table with a few candles. A hint of vanilla wafted through the air as the flame flickered and danced. “Where the fuck am I?” You rubbed your eyes to wake yourself up even more before trying to escape wherever the fuck you had been taken to. A bandage was placed on the side of your head where that cop had struck you. Slinging one leg out you raised yourself out of bed, or tried to anyway. The sheets had wrapped itself around your legs and waist. Your left leg felt tingly and weak once you put your weight on it. “Oh fuck,” you yelped as you toppled onto the floor, smacking your nose in the process. A nice thudding sound followed at the impact.  _ Great, now my kidnapper knows I'm definitely awake. It was nice living while it lasted, I guess.  _ As if on cue hurried footsteps caught your attention _.  _ The sound traveled throughout the mysterious place and into the room you were currently in. As you tried to untangling your legs out of the cursed sheet, you noticed the mountains and mountains of books piled in the room. Several stacks were behind the bed and there were cases of them piled on the cold floor. 

Shaking your head out of your thoughts, you tried getting up again. However, your legs still refused to cooperate with you. The floor seemed to stare back at you mockingly as you caught yourself from kissing it. Huffing, you resorted to a military like crawl to get around.  _ One arm forward, one leg forward, pull. Now, other arm… _ “I see you have awakened,” an amused voice said. There, stood your captor. V. You almost laughed at the pink frilly apron tied around his waist.  _ Almost.  _ You sent him a glare as he stood there, amused in the predicament you were in. “I didn’t notice. Where am I?” “My home. The Shadow Gallery,” V said as he extended his arm. 

“May I?” Sighing, you wrapped your fingers around his arm and let him pull you up. You clutched onto his arm tightly for support. Your knees started to shake and you prepared for them to buckle beneath you for the third goddamn time. “Oh great,” you huffed as you started to fall. You screwed your eyes shut, bracing for impact. It never came. Your eyes flew open and you stood there, confused. That’s when you realized what was supporting your waist.  _ Who  _ was supporting your waist. V’s arm had snaked around your waist and he pulled your side into him. He rested his mask atop your head, warmth radiating off of him. You could smell the musky scent of pine from the sheets as you inhaled. Cheeks singing with heat, you mumbled a “thanks.” “Of course, I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself anymore,” he chuckled. You wanted to ignore the way his voice traveled down your spine and caused your belly to flutter. 

“How long was I out for? I can’t really..walk.” “Yes I can see that,” he teased. “Roughly I’d say two days.”  _ Two days? Two fucking days?!  _ “How is your head,” V asked as he led you through the gallery. “Hurts,” you quipped, leaning on him for support. His arm was still wrapped around your waist. Not that you noticed. Several Statues and paintings filled the hall as he led you to..somewhere. You gaped in shock; famous paintings and sculptures that had been locked up were sitting here, in the Shadow Gallery. “Holy shit, V. These are..,” you guestered towards the contraband in front of you. “From the vaults of the Ministry of Objectionable Materials,” he finished for you. “How did you manage to steal them?” V chuckled, “Stealing implies ownership, you can’t steal from the censor, I merely reclaimed them.” You laughed,  _ clever as always. _

  
V led you to a small kitchen. A small table sat in the middle of it with the appliances behind it. Knick knacks and books filled the barren beige tiled walls. The Shadow Gallery had a homey feeling to it. Just looking at it made your heart warm. You sank into the chair V had sat you in. A couple books were open on the table along with a few newspapers strewn about. “ **TOURIST DEAD!”** , was one of the headlines of the paper. A picture of V’s masked face was printed, lying on the floor. You snickered. How stupid people had to be to believe that shit. “I apologize, I was going to tidy up before you woke.” You looked away from the clipping and smiled reassuringly. “It’s alright, V. Much cleaner than my apartment; there’s paint splattered everywhere and clothes around the floor.” “You enjoy painting?” His back was turned to you holding an egg. V cracked it somehow making cracking an egg elegant. It sizzled as it fell onto the pan. “Yea I do. I’m not the best but I love it. It helps me.” You watched V as he moved about the kitchen. His gracefulness never failed to astonish you. The spatula he was using caught the egg after he flipped it into the air. It made you smile as you watched him maneuver around the place. “Art is art. Whether or not the quality of it is excellent, it should speak what words cannot.” “Not sure you’d still say that once you looked at it,” you laughed. “I tend to make some weird things.” “I would like to see them one day, you have caught my interest,” V said, scooping the eggs on a plate. He placed a piece of toast on the plate and set it before you. That’s when you caught sight of his hands. They looked painful; they were an angry red and scars littered them. His hands looked incredibly rough and it looked like it hurt. Your heart hurt looking at them. “V,” you said softly, “are you okay?” His eyes caught the direction you were looking at. “Ah, excuse me.” He turned his back to you as he grabbed his gloves. The leather crinkled as he snapped them back on. “There, that’s better,” V said once he turned to you again, flexing his fingers as he held them in  front of him. “Did you hurt your hands?” V didn’t say anything for a bit as he looked at his gloves. “Once, a long time ago. There was a fire. I’m fine now, thank you for your concern.” The air felt tense between you two. V’s body language seemed uncomfortable at the mention of his hands, so you didn’t press any further. You dug into the egg in front of you;yolk poured out as you cut it. You hummed as you took a bite. “God, that’s good.” V chuckled, his shoulders relaxed once the topic of his skin was dropped. “Good,” he said, pouring tea into a cup. His hands were folded as he watched you munch on your toast. The taste of buttery goodness hit your tongue instantly. You looked at him shocked. “That’s...is that  _ real _ butter?” “Yes, yes it is.” You stared at him, dumbfounded. “How did you..?” “A government supply train on its way to Chancellor Sutler.” Your brows shot up as you gaped at V. He said it so calmly like stealing from a dictator was a normal pastime. “You’re actually crazy. You stole..from Chancellor..Sutler..I..”

“I dare all that may become a man. Who dares more is none,” V quoted. Your brows furrowed and your lips pulled into a frown at his words.  _ What is he talking about? _ “I’m pretty sure I don’t understand that reference.” “Macbeth?” Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.  _ He probably thinks I’m an idiot _ . You shook your head and looked down at your food. “Not interested in the fine art of theatre?” You scarfed down your last bite of toast and egg, setting your fork down gently. If you weren’t starving you would be embarrassed of swallowing your food. V didn’t seem to mind anyways. “I enjoy seeing plays and things like that. I just never got the chance to read them.” You grabbed your plate and started to rise from your seat, but V stopped you. “I’ve got it Mademoiselle,” he said, grabbing your plate from your hands. “Thanks,” you replied, sitting back in your seat awkwardly. You twirled your thumbs to try and calm the butterflies in your stomach. You felt sick as you stood there. Would he be offended or embarrassed that you hadn’t studied theatre? “I have a few of his works around the gallery, you’re more than welcome to read them if you’d like.” The sink spat out water. You watched V scrub your plate vigorously. You had to stop yourself from laughing as you realized he’d change his gloves again to rubber yellow ones. “I would, but it’s hard for me to understand what's going on. I probably sound stupid,” you muttered. V shook his head; his hair bouncing along with it. “Nonsense my dear; just because something is difficult does not make you stupid.” You snorted. V turned to you after putting your plate away. The look in your eyes looked faraway, and empty. Underlying it was sadness and a flicker of anger. “My dad would say differently. He was religious and batshit insane.” “What about your mother,” V asked, folding the kitchen towel and hanging it back on the stove. “Cancer took her. I don’t remember her at all.” “I’m sorry to hear that.” You shrugged, “Life moves on. What can you do.” V didn’t say anything. In fact, he didn’t know what to say. He had many skills, but comfort was one he lacked. You looked so bitter as you sat there, sipping your tea. “If you’d like, I’d be happy to read one of Macbeth’s plays to you,” V said gently. Surely, that would help take your mind off of things right? You grinned, ignoring the fluttering in your heart. A distraction was what you needed and V gave you just that. “Sure!”


	3. V is a Goddamn Sap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> V realizes he has feelings for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in V's pov cause i feel like we don't really get much of his story? sure we know of larkhill and valerie, but i want more of his emotions and thoughts yknow?

He disliked how afraid you were. V didn’t see you as weak or fragile, but he hated how nervous you were. _Of him._ No, he couldn’t blame you of course. After all, you were now stuck in the Shadow Gallery, a place you were very unfamiliar with (not to mention being stuck with a wanted criminal). Anytime V would try to make conversation with you, it would be struck down. He could sense the uneasiness in your voice and the fear in your eyes. Any loud bump or noise made you tense up and rapidly search for the disrupted silence. It reminded him of all those years ago of Larkhill. Everytime V looked at you, he could see the old soul of himself. Angry, hurt, and _scared._ The V with terrible trauma from the aftermath of Larkhill (sure it was still hard for him to function some days, but vengeance was the therapy he had found). V wasn’t particularly excited about a new person in his home. He had been alone for years in the cold and loneliness of his house. It took him a decade to spruce the place up, decorated with stolen reclaimed contraband and suits of armour throughout the Shadow Gallery. Not to mention all the books stacked upon one another. V had a sense of pride as he paraded about his home. What he had created despite being in that terrible place. There was pride and satisfaction of being reborn from nothing but ashes, V felt something else. _Isolated. Depressed. Rage. The unbearable and deafening silence._ V craved a human connection (not that he would ever admit it). V wanted someone to talk to instead of making remarks with his victim before stabbing them multiple times. The void in his heart was always there whispering and crying out for someone, somebody to listen to him so he wouldn’t go _mad._ Then you came. Something new, someone different. How could it be you were easily scared, but you were one of the most courageous people V had ever met? You were passionate about doing the right thing and stood up for what you believed in. Whenever V would actually get you to talk to you for more than five minutes it was delightful. You were snarky and witty. Whenever the telly or the radio hosts spat out some nonsense about V, your tongue was very quick to banter. You were sharp and god how V loved to see your eyes light up with a fire as you vented. From art, movies, books, to the injustice of Chancellor Sutler and the awful people he had hired. _“They’re cowards_ ,” you snarked at the news. 

_ “She’s scared,” you said as the news host prattled on about the new precautions against the masked terrorist. “Oh?” The both of you were sprawled out on the leather couch with a few feet between the two of you. Your brows were furrowed as you watched the blonde woman smile and laugh with the news guy. “She’s nervous; she’s laughing too much and smiling like a dumbass.” V just hummed as the news casters changed the subject.  _

_ His sword thwacked against the dummy. It was late at night and you were already asleep. Or, so he thought. “V?” He turned around to see a very adoring sight. There was the fluffy blanket you had liked so much wrapped around your shoulders. Your hair was ruffled and your pajamas wrinkled. The sleepy look on your face made V smile. “Yes?” “It’s 3am. What the hell are you doing?” V tried not to laugh at the grumpy look on your face. “Fencing, mademoiselle.” You scoffed, “At 3am?” “It seems so. I apologize if I had awoken you.” The blanket moved as you shrugged. “It’s fine man, hard to sleep anyway.” V’s head tilted slightly. Your eyes were droopy as you stood there with the soft blanket pooling at your feet. “Something on your mind?” V felt like he overstepped a boundary once he said that. You paled a bit and twiddled with the blanket in your fingers. They scrunched it up tightly and let it go, repeating its movements. “Kinda yea,” you mumbled, shifting on your feet. You looked nervous and gulped. “Today is.,,an anniversary of sorts. A very hard one.” V didn’t press, he tried to look as welcoming as much as he could. Comfort was not in V’s fortie, but he would try to in every way he could. “Just a lot of memories,” you muttered after a while. “It’s hard to talk about.” It felt awkward between the two of you. You could joke around with each other and talk about nothing, but this was something different. “Would you like a cup of tea,” V asked, breaking the silence. “If you don’t mind. I’d feel bad about you making some this late.” “Of course, to the kitchen shall we?”  _

Progress. Slow and steady progress. You were slowly opening up to V and to his surprise he did also. He was out late tonight and warned you he’d be gone for quite some time. You didn’t seem to mind, though there was a quiet sadness as you said goodbye. Maybe you did mind, but for what reason V couldn’t figure out. What was weirder is how much he enjoyed your company. He had been alone for so long. Memories of his family, his childhood were gone. They rose into the air like smoke’s wispy tendrils and disappeared. For so long V had found solace into the silence of his life. But ever since he had met you despearity’s hounds had caught onto the trails of his cloak and bit down like a harsh winter. V was desperate to find  _ someone _ who wouldn’t make his world so lonely and cold. He was elated by the progress that the two of you made. You had enthralled him with your cunning grasp, like snakes slinging themselves around their prey. V was infatuated with you,  _ enamoured _ with you. His heart fluttered and felt so much warmth like he was a bloody teenager. Something he hadn’t felt in years. V was convinced love would not be something he experienced,let alone felt after everything he has been through. But here you were, frollicking around like it was nothing. Did you feel the same? Were you infatuated with him as he was with you? What if you saw how ugly V was? How his skin was pink, raw, and scarred so horrendously. You would shriek in terror at the sight of his skin and be disgusted. V was sure of it. You saw his hands already, and sure you didn’t scream, but you didn’t see his face. God  _ forbid _ you ever did. V snapped out of his thoughts as he heard the music once he got to the door of the gallery. 

_  
“Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older, then we wouldn’t have to wait so long.”  _ The sound of your voice captured him. His heart twinged as your lovely voice drifted through the walls of the Shadow Gallery. It was fluttery like a songbird and so heavenly .He softly closed the door behind him and snuck to where your voice led him. V would regret interrupting this wonderful moment. “ _And wouldn’t it be nice to live together in a kind of world where we belong_.” There, V saw a sight he never expected to see. A white bandana was folded and tied behind your head. A baggy t-shirt reached your mid thigh. V hoped you had something underneath it ~~he shuddered and his face flushed at the thought~~. Paint was smeared across the shirt and your arms and legs. A canvas lay on the floor with a towel underneath it. Various paints and brushes lay discarded on the living room floor. It was a rare and very cute sight. “Oh my god,” you shrieked as you turned around to find your masked friend witnessing his living room a bit in disarray. V didn’t fail to notice the way your cheeks became a nice shade of rose red. “H-how long have you been standing there?” “Not for very long,” he replied. The voice of the singer carried on as the both of you stared at each other. What an amusing sight this is, V thought. His ward covered in paint and dancing around the gallery. V couldn’t help but compare himself in his infamous “battle” attire, the hat and everything. “May I see what you are painting,” he asked after the two of you eyed one another. “Uh sure,” You shook yourself out of your daze and bent down to grab the canvas carefully. He couldn’t help but notice how disheartened you sounded from the question. Don’t look down, don’t look down, V had to tell himself as you squatted down. However tempting it was, he wouldn’t dare to rake his eyes over your delightful- “The paint is still drying a bit but uh it was gonna be a surprise...here it is.” You timidly raised the canvas and showed it to V. His

heart stopped as he observed it. It was a painting of him. His mask was tilted downwards and his hair swept forward; its strands like an inky curtain. The most noticeable thing, however, was the red rose grasped in his left hand. The nose of V’s mask was “smelling it.” You had captured him in the most beautiful light, something he would never say about himself.

“I-it’s alright if it’s bad, I can redo it or just throw i-it away-” “It’s perfect,” V whispered. He was floored. “O-oh thanks!” You were relieved that he had finally said  _ something _ . “Can I ask you something, mademoiselle?” “Yea of course.” “Why did you paint me?” Your eyes widened at the question. The tips of your ears went pink and you dropped V’s gaze. “I-I just..as a thank you. For everything really. I k-know this situation isn’t exactly i-ideal for you either and well I….I just wanted to try and do something for you. You’ve done s-so much for me and I know it’s not that big of a deal but...it’s the least I can do.” V was moved;here you were putting your time and effort to create something for him. Did you share mutual feelings towards him? You were so nervous, after all. “You know,” V said after some time, “You sell yourself short. Your art is incredible.” Your lips tugged into a soft smile, “Thank you, V.” You looked around the mess of his living room floor. “Sorry you came home to such a mess, I’ll clean it up.” “Nonsense, mademoiselle, I’ve seen worse in my time.” Your brows furrowed at that but you decided not to push it.  _ Maybe another time.  _ “After the sitting room is cleaned, I advise you to go to sleep.” “But I wanna hear about your kick ass fights,” you pouted as you set the painting on the coffee table. V tutted, “Not tonight my dear, it is late. In the morning you shall hear of them.” “What are you, my dad,” you teased as you cleaned up your mess. Oh, how  _ wicked _ you were. You strutted to the kitchen tauntingly, pouring out your cup and cleaning your brushes. V chuckled darkly, “If that’s how you would like to play it, then I won’t stop you.” You felt heat rush to your core at those words. “W-what HEY!” V’s arm snaked around your waist and he gently hung you over his shoulder. Your head felt dizzy as the ground moved beneath him. Your fists smacked softly onto his chest and your feet dangled in the air. “Put me down V!” His arm was snug around your waist as he made his way to his room. “Not until you have a good night’s rest my dear.” Huffing you hung there helplessly. “Fine fine I’ll go to sleep! I promise!” Your head spun and you felt hazy as you hung there upside down. Seemingly satisfied, V plopped you on the ground. Your hand clutched his arm tightly as you stood there regaining your balance. Your eyes trailed down to the mask’s lips. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by V. Your cheeks tinged once you realized you had been caught staring. “Night V.” His arm was free from your grasp as you turned to the bedroom door. “Goodnight, mademoiselle,” V replied. You gave him one last smile before softly shutting the door.  _ A night without sleep seems to be ahead of me tonight. _


	4. A Pedophile and a Priest?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> V asks you for a huge favour. You begrudgingly accept after he gave you some delicious coffee. TW: non con/sexual assualt attempt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> V: *dies*
> 
> me cracking my knuckles as I open google docs: i think not
> 
> As always I will be putting another trigger warning at the beginning of this chapter, I want yall to stay safe.

**TW: Non con/ sexual assault ATTEMPT**

“You want me to do  _ what?” _ It was barely 8:30 am; the sun had just grazed you with its warm embrace.  _ “Ah, you’re up early,” _ V had remarked once he heard you shuffle into the kitchen. His trademark apron was tied snugly around his waist. You grumbled in reply and begrudgingly sat down in a kitchen chair. A mug of coffee had slid your way. It was delicious, ~~something you thought V had gave you to convince you to do this task~~. V shifted foot to foot as he stood there in the kitchen. You didn’t think V could ever be sheepish, let alone  _ nervous. _ “It’ll be fine, my dear. All you have to do is follow my lead.” You drummed your fingers on the table as you stared up at the smiling mask looking down at you. Even though you couldn’t see V’s face you knew he was hopeful. “Alright V, just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” V’s hands clasped together, enthused. “Aha! Thank you mademoiselle, I appreciate it!You can trust me;danger will not whisk you away from my grasp.” You hated how chirpy he sounded as he prattled on about his plans. V’s voice sounded muddled as he chatted excitedly. You rubbed your temples with the tips of your fingers. “It’s not even ten,” you muttered.

The face that stared back at you was unrecognizable. The mirror mocked you as you sat there, gazing at the new face in front of you. V had twirled the chair around in front of the mirror, the counter filled with makeup and brushes. You were surprised that he had makeup, considering he wore the guy fawkes mask 24/7. “Do you not like it, my dear?” You snapped from your thoughts as you turned to your masked friend. “It’s not that I hate it, just not my style.” You gestured to the pink blush and bright pink lipstick V had painted onto your face. “I’m used to a more natural look, or with the winged eyeliner I usually wear.” V chuckled, “You dislike looking like a little girl.” “Can you blame me,” you huffed. “You are very good with makeup though, I’ll give you that V.” He thanked you while he pinned the pink bows in your pig tails. You suppressed a shiver as his gloved fingers brushed over your neck lightly.  _ Stop it! Focus on the task at hand! _ You definitely did  _ not _ blush when his chest rested against your back as he pinned the last bow to your head. “Funny how this guy is a priest  _ and _ a pedophile. Two birds with one stone,” you joked, trying to calm yourself down. “The world won’t surely miss him when he’s gone,” V replied as he stepped back. His fingers hovered over your shoulder, almost as if he wanted to gently brush them across your skin. Through the mirror you could tell V was staring at you. It was silent for a few moments as the two of you held each other’s gaze. “D-do you know what I’m gonna wear,” you stammered, breaking the silence. You hoped to god V didn’t notice that you were blushing, if he did he didn’t he say anything. “Ah yes,” he said, “You’re going to  _ love _ the costume, too.” You chuckled, shaking your head. “I’m dying to find out.”

You fiddled with the hem of the dress as you waited for the priest to enter. V wasn’t kidding about the dress. The skirt was wide and very pink. The only thing you liked about it was the white blouse and the short lace socks you wore with the pink maryjanes. Nerves jumped inside of your stomach.  _ What if this all went wrong? _ You felt sick as you waited for the damn guy to get in here. You shuddered at what the assistant or chapel dude had said (like you would know what he did.)  _ “You’re much older than expected. It should be fine, you look young enough.” _ You almost gagged when those words came out of his mouth. But you gave him the sweetest smile you could muster and a gritted “thanks.” His eyes swept over you one more time before leading you to a room with a four poster bed. Regret washed over you;you regretted agreeing to help  V with this...particular task. _“All will be fine mademoiselle. I promise.”_ His words rang in your head along with the instructions he had gone over with you. Yes, you felt guilty for having to live off of him for so long and disrupting his peace, but death didn’t seem terrible as you stood there in the priest’s room. “It’s the least we can do,” you reassured yourself. “For V.” The white walls of the room were bare; not a single decoration of some kind hanging on the walls. It was incredibly boring. Your eyes followed the dried paint on the walls. The strokes of the brush made little swirls and intricate, abstract designs. _Has it been 5? 10? 20 minutes? Do I sit on the bed? Do I just stand here like an idiot?_ No matter how much you hated standing there, you knew if V asked you anything you would do it in a heartbeat. _‘Darling, would you mind handing me the rag?’ ‘Would you mind holding this fabric up for me?’ ‘Mademoiselle, could you risk your life for me and die by my hand?’_ You snorted at the last one. Even if V were to ask that, you would. _It’s because we have a crush._ “No, no we don’t, shut up shut up shut-” The door swung open and you immediately tensed up.

_ Relax, get in tune, V will protect us. _ An older balding man stood in front of you. His robes reached to the floor and he had beady eyes that looked black. God was he ugly. You felt disgusted as his eyes raked over your body. The gleam in his eyes made you feel sick.  _ Good thing father taught me to be an A class liar.  _ “Hello, sir.” You gave him a smile;your eyes looked all innocent and doelike. Your lips parted as you spoke.  _ Don’t over do it, be innocent and childlike. It makes me feel gross for thinking that.  _ You averted your gaze, trying to pass it off as looking shy. “You’re beautiful,” he said, “I can’t believe I doubted your beauty for a second.” Forcing a smile you whispered, “Thank you, sir.” The priest’s eyes seemed to gleam at that. “So polite.” He slowly strolled over to you like he would to a scared child (the thought of that made you feel sick). His slimy hand grabbed your arm; his grip was tight as he looked into your eyes. “Go on, get on the bed.” You gulped as he let go of your arm. “Yes sir.” You felt terrified at the sound of the door closing and the  _ click _ of a lock _.  _ You sat at the end of the bed, your legs pressed together. An ugly smile graced his lips as he saw you. You noticed the tent in his pants and wanted to puke. 

Everything happened so fast. One minute he was at the door and the next he pounced on you. You let out a shriek as your back hit the bed. The priest’s body was pressed up against yours. His hands traveled down your waist, to your legs. They ghosted up your smooth thighs and up to your panties. “N-no,” you yelped, squirming under his body.  _ Where the hell was V?  _ Everything felt hazy and unreal. It was almost dreamlike as you laid there at this creep’s mercy.  _ This can’t be happening, this isn’t real. Where the fuck is V? _ Squirming, you tried to throw the priest off of you but to no avail you were stuck. “You’re going to take what I give you and you will  like it,” the priest snarled, “stop moving bitch.” His grip was like iron; his hands had wrapped around your throat, squeezing in tightly. Your lungs burned as they begged for air. Hands creeping up to his, you tried tugging at them to let them go. It was no use. Circles and staticky designs danced around the air. The vision in your eyes was starting to darken and the priest’s fingers had started to ghost over the waistband of your underwear. You were pinned underneath him,helpless. There was a wolfish grin on his lips. You were the wolf’s prey; a rabbit trying to wiggle underneath the wolf’s weight.  _ He said he’d be here what the fuck happened? I’m gonna get taken advantage of, I’m going to die. He said he’d protect me, he said- _

_ Bang! Bang! CRASH! _ The door smashed, pieces of its wood crashing onto the door. “What the-,” the priest shouted. There, V stood in the broken door way. His posture was tense and he searched for you as he stood there. V’s fist clenched and his blood boiled as he saw you under the priest. The look on your face had sheer terror written all over it. “It’s the terrorist!” The priest jumped off of you and ran towards a bible sitting on his dresser. Air filled your lungs and you hacked loudly. The burning in your chest and throat made you cough.Tears made your eyes blurry as they fell from your cheeks. Getting composed, you remembered where you were.  _ Stop sitting there and move! Run! _ Your body was shaking with adrenaline and everything felt numb. You could hear grunts of pain from the direction where V and the priest was but you didn’t care. Tumbling off the bed you covered your face so you wouldn’t smack it against the floor. You sucked in a breath as your legs smacked onto the hard tile. Everything was burning. The ghost of the priest’s fingers burned your skin and you felt disgusted. You scurried onto your legs and watched as V flung a knife in the priest’s stomach, causing him to tumble over. A groan escaped the priest’s lips as he hunched over, holding his side. You admired V’s dance of knives as you watched him twirl another dagger with his fingers and slit the priest’s throat. His hands immediately flew up to his throat and his face paled. Blood gurgled out of his mouth until there was nothing but silence. The priest’s corpse fell with a  _ thud _ and that is when V turned to you. “I apologize darling, I had some trouble along the way. He didn’t touch you did he?” Tears fell from your eyes;you looked like a mess. Your hair was tousled and your mascara left streaks on your cheeks. You just shook your head no, not trusting yourself to speak. “I-I wasn’t…” you trailed off after swallowing the tears and the huge lump in your throat. More tears fell from your eyes as you thought of the prospect of  _ what if. What if V hadn’t shown up in time. What if he hadn’t even shown up at all. What if we were actually- _ A whimper escaped your lips as you tried your damned hardest not to sob. 

V let out a sigh and enveloped you in his arms. He felt incredibly guilty he was a tad bit too late. Any later and well… V’s black tunic was damp from your tears. His hands hung low above your waist and your head nuzzling into his chest. His wig tickled you a bit but you didn’t mind. He was warm and comforting. V’s arms felt safe as he held you tightly. Giving you one last squeeze, he pulled away. Your red eyes stared back into the guy fawkes mask. How  _ badly _ you wanted to kiss his lips. Or well, the mask’s at the very least. “Are you ready, mademoiselle,” V’s usually chipper voice sounding dark. Nodding, you wiped your eyes. “Let’s go home,” you whispered. V smiled underneath his mask. His gloved hand gently placed itself on your back as he led the way. How badly you wanted to melt into his touch. “To home, then.”  _ Our home. _


	5. Finally They Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title says it all.

The music from your phone played throughout the deafening silence of the gallery. The infamously known masked criminal had left the gallery to commit his “righteous duties”. That’s how your friend, V, put it anyways. London was weeping over its people, at least, that’s what V had said once he heard the rain slapping the roof.  _ Why can’t he just say it’s pouring, _ you thought to yourself as V fluttered about the house. “Dramatic as always V,” you snickered as you stood there watching him preparing to leave. You had been staying in the Shadow Gallery for a few months now. You weren’t very stoked to having to stay here for a year, but you had to. After all, you had sealed your fate after macing that cop. Even though you were upset about having to be stuck here away from your paints and gaming consoles, you understood. It was your decision to save him, he hadn’t asked you too.

V’s underground home was deadly quiet as he got ready. The playful aura and laughter was now gone. It felt lonely and cold, something you guessed V had felt before you arrived. “Hey V,” you asked, fidgeting with the flowy skirt you wore. “Yes?” The man in question picked up his notorious black hat and put it on top of his head. He smoothed his hair and turned to you after looking in the mirror once more. “C-can I,” you started, cheeks flushing a bright pink, “Can I have a hug?” You felt awkward as you stood there playing with your skirt. V didn’t say anything as he stared at you. The smiling mask was unsettling to look at with the awkward air and embarrassment you felt. “Y-y'know what, forget I asked,” you stammered, starting to turn before throwing a “good luck and goodbye” kinda thing. You heard him sigh. V wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close to his chest. The scent of lemon and the smell of pine made you hum. Your arms snaked around his middle as you stood there, together in front of the T.V. You were thankful V couldn’t see your beet red face. His mask rested atop your head and you shivered at the rumble of his chest as he spoke. “Forgive me, I was taken aback is all.” You pulled away a bit looking at the eyes of his mask. “It’s alright, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” “Nonsense my dear, you have yet to do so.”  _ Oh we definitely have a crush. _ You pulled away giving him a smile. “Be safe okay V? I mean it. If you come home almost dead on the porch again, so help me, your bullet wounds won’t be the thing killing you.” V laughed, the sound of it making your heart giddy. “Of course, mademoiselle.” The tension between the two of you was thick, neither of you breaking eye contact. Feeling bold, you grasped V’s shoulder with your hand and stood on your tippy toes. “D-dove-,” he started. You interrupted him, though. Your soft lips placed themselves on the cheek of his mask. “A good luck charm,” you said softly as you pulled away. Giving V’s shoulder one last squeeze, you let him go. “I shall return soon,” V said as he left. You scolded him again about being reckless, and to be  _ safe _ . Your heart sank as V’s echoing footsteps faded away leaving you standing alone and cold.

  
“ _ I  _ love  _ you baby _ , and if it’s quite alright I need you  _ baby,” _ you sang as you grabbed the acrylic paint V had gotten for you. The clock read 1:54 on the wall while the rain continued to pour outside into the night. V had yet to return from doing god knows what in the streets. The smears of white and red paint were splattered across your arms and thighs. The scent of paint and V’s musky smell mixed together as you painted. Your arms and body tingled from the warm embrace he had given you. Thoughts of V took over as your paint brush made graceful strokes on the canvas.  _ Did he even like you back?  _ “As if,” you huffed. “He’s a man with taste.”  _ But what  _ _ about the pet names? And the flowers! He brings us flowers once he comes back.  _ “He’s british, being called love and darling is something normal here. The flowers don’t mean anything. It’s not like an obvious red rose or anything,” you told yourself.  _ Stop daydreaming and just accept the fact that V doesn’t like you like in that way.  _

__

_ 4:33 _ . “Where the hell is he,” you muttered. The rain continued to pour outside. Your canvas was set drying on the table and you flipped through your phone to entertain yourself.  _ Thank god for a VPN. _ You laughed at a funny meme as you scrolled through your feed. The lights flickered. You sucked in a breath and waited.  _ CRASH!  _ You jumped at the loud bang of thunder. Trying to calm yourself down, you continued to scroll through Twitter. The anxiety in your stomach wouldn’t stop eating away. V was out there in this godforsaken storm. What if he got hurt?  _ What if he died? _ “Stop,” you told yourself sternly. “He’ll be fine.”  _ Pop! _ Darkness embraced you as you sat there. _ The lights are out. _ Your breaths became shallow; the dim white light of your phone providing some kind of light source. “Calm down,” you whispered. “We’re gonna be fine.” Turning on your phone’s flashlight and using it as a torch, you crept to the bedroom. Loud crashes and noises made your hair stand up on end. Loud noises meant trouble. Loud noises meant a tantrum from your dad had started or something was here, waiting . Silence meant peace. Silence meant safety. There was some sense of relief as you made it to the room and closed the door. Diving under the blankets, you whimpered as lightning struck. You curled into yourself and laid there. Hoping that the storm would pass, or V would come home. His scent on the sheets was the only solace you had. He will come home, eventually. You wished for V’s arms to hold and comfort you like the very few times he did before. Usually after a panic attack or when you were at the lowest of your lows. You wanted him to finish reading  _ Lord of the Rings _ to you and help lull you to sleep. But V wasn’t here. V wasn’t going to hold you, or read you to sleep. He was out saving the country he so loved from it’s awful dictator.  _ You’re weak. V wouldn’t want someone weak. He wants someone brave, and courageous. Someone who’s willing to die for what they love.  _

__

A sob bubbled up in your throat and tears threatened to escape from your eyes. You couldn’t breathe; you felt suffocated under the sheets, but if you moved you’d be open, vulnerable.  _ Vulnerability is a weakness, being sad and scared is a weakness.  _ How disgusting you must have looked. Hiding like a small child from the scary monster in their closet. How disgusted would V be if he found you here, under his sheets that were now wet with tears.  _ We need to calm down. We need to stop crying. How pathetic we must look right now. He should’ve left you in that station to die. You deserve to die, you deserve to- _ . “Love?” V’s voice broke your thoughts. He sounded so soft and gentle. You cursed at yourself for not noticing the door opening. Now he was going to see how pathetic you really were. V’s black boots slid across the floor when he made way into the room.You felt the bed dip beside you as you laid there. Your breath caught in your throat as you laid there silently under the sheets.  _ Please go away, please don’t uncover the sheets. _ The cool air hit you as V pulled the sheets back. Cursing at your luck, you took a peak. Funny how creepy the smiling mask was in the dark. V’s hat was still perched on his head, you realized. His gloved fist was curled around something in his hand.  _ A rose.  _

“My songbird, what is the matter,” V asked as he took in your tear stricken face. The moonlight shone onto your beautiful face, revealing the wetness of your cheeks. How _ beautiful _ you were. V felt guilty once he saw you huddled under the covers, hiding from something.  _ Could it be from yourself? _ “You’re late,” you croaked, “it’s almost 5 am.” “I apologize my dear, something went a bit south.” You didn’t say anything. Your eyes clenched shut and your teeth sunk into your bottom lip from trembling. V’s head cocked to the side, his lips pulled into a frown underneath the mask. He called out your name. The softness and caring tone made your eyes snap back at him. Suddenly, a crash of thunder hit. You flinched and wormed yourself underneath the sheets even more. V simultaneously realized, at that very moment, how terrified you were of thunder. He felt stupid as he sat there, staring at your shaking form. Of  _ course _ you would try to seek out comfort whenever you were scared or moody. Hiding was your last resort if there was no comfort to be found. A hand stroked your head causing you to tense up. The leather of the glove felt cool, and smooth. Brows drawn, you looked up at V. His right arm extended to you, with the gift he had brought. “V,” you whispered as you stared at him with shock. You gently wrapped your hand around the stem, taking it from his hands. “An apology for returning so late…and to ask for a courtship. With you,” V stammered. Even with the mask, you  _ knew _ V was flustered. “It’s about time,” you joked, your voice a bit hoarse. “Ah yes, well you see I was so nervous and I-I've never-” You cut him off with your lips. The odd but smooth material of the mask’s lips felt foreign against your soft, warm ones. 

V didn’t even have to feel your lips to know they were the softest thing to exist. He just  _ knew. _ You pulled away slowly, your cheeks warming up a bit. You were bashful, a gentle smile swept across your lips. “Thank you for the rose, it’s beautiful.” “My beautiful maiden, it is quite dark in here. You could not be quite sure of such a thing.” “I’ll kiss you again, V.” You giggled, as he shut up. 

“Close your eyes and keep them closed,” V said. You looked at him confused, “Why?”  “I have another gift.” A brow was raised in his direction. He just gestured at you, waiting patiently. “You’re acting pretty sus not gonna lie, but ok.” Your eyes fluttered shut. Time seemed to pass by awfully slow as you waited. Not to mention, the dark that encased you as your lids closed. “V?” “I’m right here love.” You heard something untying and felt something being placed on the bed. How badly you wanted to open your eyes, but you would not betray V like that. The smoothness of his gloves grasped both of your cheeks softly. His fingers stroked them and held cupped your cheeks. You screwed your eyes shut, fighting the urge to open them. _What was he doing?_ Your breath stopped at a halt; his breath was on your lips. _He’s going to kiss me! His mask is off!_ You swallowed nervously as you waited. That’s when you felt it. V’s lips were rough and felt scarred. The texture was very different from your own, but you didn’t care. In fact, you cherished it. A sigh escaped your lips as your fingers clutched his cloak, pulling him closer. Teeth nibbled at your lips playfully. V’s scent filled your senses and you felt your head starting to become dizzy. You almost whined once his lips pulled away from yours. Eyes still closed, you waited for the signal to open them again. Your ears perked up as you heard the rustling of cloth and a little grunt from V. “Thank you darling, you can open your eyes again.” There were little dots and squiggles as you opened your eyes, moving in the air. You were a little sad to see the  mask on again, but knew better than to press. V would give you the world, but he was still insecure about his skin. You were curious to see him, especially after the glimpse of damaged skin you had seen on his hands. But, you knew better than to ask, let alone force him to show you.

V placed his hat on the bedside table next to him. He was surprised to find you had fallen asleep, though it was quite late. He quietly shimmied out of his cloak and set his knives down on the nightstand. A sigh escaped his lips as he got into more comfortable clothing, followed by discarding his gloves on the table beside him. You had wrapped V around your finger; encasing him with your humour and your kindness. He was at your mercy. You had captivated the man who thought he could no longer feel love. Oh how wrong he was. V wrapped his arms around you and held you close. His art swelled a bit at the sleepy hum you gave him. Your head rested lightly on V’s chest and his arms snuggled you tightly. Your soft snores filled the room once again and V couldn’t believe how lucky he was. Eventually, the masked vigilante fell asleep; the comfort of your love and beauty keeping him warm at night.


End file.
